(Anime/Manga Fanfiction) [Various] Throne of God (22) + Extra Chapter
Chapter Twenty-Two
Upon entering the palace, Raphael saw the smiling Archangel. Regardless of how others praised Princess Gabriel's beauty, he still felt that her aura was even more dazzling than her appearance; such affability was rare even among Seraphim.
A little surprised by Raphael's inquiry about Joyce, and noticing the genuine seriousness on Raphael's face, Gabriel, sitting at his desk, recalled the events of the past few days and carefully recounted them. Hearing Princess Gabriel's account, Raphael couldn't help but show disappointment, as Gabriel, whom Joyce wasn't familiar with, had left after reporting the matter.
"What's wrong? Has something happened to Joyce?"
"Your Highness, I'm so sorry to disturb your work. I don't know what's wrong with Joyce either. I can only sense something's off from his recent behavior. He seems to be going out at night, which makes him listless during the day. I'm very worried."
Angels aren't exactly naive and incapable of keeping secrets, but their inherent kindness and gentleness mean they usually don't hide anything. Sensing something amiss from his friend's condition, Raphael pondered for a while before seeking the Archangel's help.
If he could restore Joyce to normal, he wouldn't care about being scolded by his friend afterward. If Joyce hadn't missed his prayers the next day because of something happening at night, Raphael wouldn't have done this.
"Tonight…go and call Jeremy over."
After a moment's hesitation, Gabriel said to the angelic attendant outside the door.
Upon reaching the Seraphim rank, their palaces are filled with angels dedicated to serving them. Because the angelic ranks within each palace are diverse, each archangel possesses at least two formally designated palaces. These include a few Cherubim and Thrones, as well as some mid-level angels; to avoid confusion in addressing them, Heaven generally refers to them as Attendant Angels.
"Your Highness, what brings you here?"
Jeremy glanced around the room, bowing respectfully when he saw the gently smiling Gabriel. Only at this moment did Raphael see a hint of restraint in this proud Cherubim.
"Jeremy, retrieve the records of Archangel Joyce's visits to the Ninth Heaven after the Creation Ceremony."
"Yes, Your Highness."
After the records were retrieved, Raphael gasped. He had assumed Joyce only occasionally disappeared at night, but it turned out he had not only stayed out all night but also made several daytime outings. Looking at the entry and exit times in the records, Gabriel also paused, his smile instantly widening.
Holding the slip of paper recording entry and exit times, she flicked the writing with her finger and asked her adjutant with amusement.
"Jeremy, what has the Archangel been busy with lately? Why is he going to the mortal realm every night?"
"Your Highness, I have no idea. Should we send Angelo, who manages the gates of the Second Heaven, over? Besides, I don't think there's been any need for the Archangel to go out so frequently in the last few hundred years."
The man with shoulder-length, golden-brown hair glanced at Raphael, returning the same smile as his superior. Seeing that Prince Gabriel had finished reading, he stepped forward and took the slip back.
"Lust fascinates angels, greed makes them unable to extricate themselves..."
Jehovah, watching Gabriel and his men's investigation, inexplicably thought of this saying. Perhaps this saying could be applied to all sentient beings. Original sin, indeed, is rooted in the world. Perhaps it manifests more clearly in humans, but it also becomes exceptionally prominent in angels accustomed to an ascetic life.
Was he wrong? Suppressing the nature and desires of living beings with rules and discipline? No… he wasn't wrong. The only ones wrong were the angels who knowingly did the impossible. These were simply the rules they had to follow to live in Heaven. If they didn't want to stay, they could leave; God would never stop any angel.
The once pure soul in his sight was now tinged with gray gloom. The white angel wings were losing their luster. If Joyce hadn't still believed he hadn't betrayed God, if his faith hadn't wavered in the slightest, this archangel would probably have already fallen into darkness without even realizing it.
In his cold, golden eyes, there was neither joy nor sorrow. Jehovah had already foreseen this; perhaps the first fallen angel would be him. Thinking of the fallen angels, God's gaze turned to the archangel's palace in the seventh heaven of Saturn, where another seraphim he had created himself resided.
Samael…
His long, silver-blue hair flowed with a beautiful light, and in his equally silver-blue eyes was Samael's usual cold expression. The Archangel, far more serious than Beelzebub, was reviewing official documents. A brown gemstone necklace adorned his neck, a miniature golden feather embedded within the gemstone—something only Gabriel could pull off.
The golden eyes watched him silently. Time seemed to stand still in the cathedral. Jehovah's expression softened slightly. He found immense pleasure in observing the lives of these angels. Sometimes life was indeed dull, but he could find a sense of genuine existence in their monotonous routines.
"Never mind," he thought, "I'll inform Samael after Joyce's affair is exposed. No Seraphim is more suitable for that position than Samael. The angelic prison naturally needs a just and impartial angel to preside over the judgment; it's where God has already locked people up in solitary confinement."
Joyce was unaware that Raphael had gone to see the Archangel. If the Archangel knew… he probably wouldn't be spending the night so leisurely outside. Since angelic wings are a form of materialized energy, they naturally don't manifest when lying in bed. Joyce's pristine white body lay exposed on the bed, covered in hickeys and bodily fluids, a testament to what had happened the previous night.
Before Joyce awoke, Isidore, one of the few remaining abyssal demons of Hell, was already fully dressed and seated by the bedside. Although he himself wasn't used to wearing a holy white robe… the demon stroked his chin, but if this pretense could fool an angel, he was still quite happy to continue. A free meal was better than nothing; an angel's body was far more appealing than a witch's.
The demon's ingrained coldness and ruthlessness were hard to erase. Angels possessed a unique aura, especially the proud yet humble Archangel. If he were to simply use Lucifer's appearance as a disguise, Isidore knew he absolutely couldn't keep up the act, because he couldn't imitate that angelic aura.
Isidore abruptly turned and looked out the window. The bright morning sun proved that the angel had overslept again, and it also indicated that the revelation of this matter was probably not far off. He sensed a powerful force from the Far East; that pure, luminous holy power was clearly discernible even from a distance.
He wondered which seraphim had come this time. If it was someone like Michael… well, he wouldn't let Behemoth off the hook even in death.
Isidore glanced at the angel he had been intimately entwined with, and at Joyce's now rosy lips. A wicked idea formed in his mind, and he gave a wicked smile. The demon leaned down and kissed her lips, exchanging saliva until they were swollen and red. Even the deepest sleeper, Joyce, was awakened.
"Your Highness Lucifer."
Her fingers pulled the blanket from the corner. Even after this encounter, the adoring look in Joyce's eyes when she looked at the blond man had never changed.
Lucifer's looks and demeanor were enough to captivate any angel; his every word and smile exuded unparalleled elegance. Joyce seemed utterly insignificant in his presence. He felt as if his current situation were a dream, so beautiful he didn't want to wake up.
"Joyce, I'll go get you that coat. Wait a bit before you get up."
The man's malice was perfectly concealed beneath a veneer of tenderness. Isidore reached out and brushed aside a strand of hair clinging to Joyce's brow, his azure eyes softening with a gentle light, as if he were the Lucifer who had let his guard down.
Using the excuse of getting a coat, Isidore left his temporary lodging and decisively sped towards Hell. What a joke! If he were found, he'd be facing a mob beating. If he were unlucky enough to provoke the real Lucifer, his life would be forfeit.
He hadn't been gone long when a blonde woman stopped him, his smile frozen as he stared at the angels in mid-air.
Her blonde hair, resembling Lucifer's, was styled in large, wavy curls. Facing the face her companions often saw, the woman's eyes, which should have been bright and gentle, were cold and stern, unaffected by any pretense. Her slender fingers rested deftly on the bowstring, a longbow and a beam of light aimed diagonally at Isidore. The six golden wings fluttering behind her were proof enough of her identity.
The Seraphim Gabriel, one of the six Archangels of Heaven.
"Excuse me... is there something you need?"
Isidore, wearing Lucifer's face, feigned innocence, a move of unparalleled devastation that successfully made Gabriel's eye twitch.
Glaring fiercely at this damned demon, she made no move, merely blocking any escape route for Isidore, waiting for her lieutenant to return from Joyce. Although she hadn't personally gone to see Joyce, sensing the demon's escape route, Gabriel guessed something bad had happened.
A moment later, Jeremy flew swiftly down from the sky, his face exceptionally dark. He arrived beside Gabriel, bowed respectfully, and reported the matter to her. As expected, Gabriel's face also darkened; she was furious at the news, feeling a tightness in her chest. How could she not be enraged that such an absurd thing had happened within her jurisdiction!
"You dare touch an archangel!"
Gabriel's voice was icy cold, her bright blue eyes flashing with chilling killing intent. The long arrow she had already nocked gleamed with a suppressed golden light, clearly indicating her intention to resolve the conflict 'peacefully'.
Suddenly, a dense pressure spread through the air, and a dragon's roar echoed from afar, its imposing presence seemingly capable of stealing one's breath in an instant.
A colossal abyssal dragon, almost blotting out the sky, soared out, its graceful, flowing lines continuing the style of the first dragon king. You can still see the characteristics of the dragon race when God created them, including the creator god's expectations for the dragon race, unparalleled flamboyance and strength, and a natural-born dual powerhouse in both body and spirit.